Is Modest Hottest?

Exploring the traditional virtue of modesty

I have a lot of childhood memories surrounding modesty. None of them are particularly fond. I felt very constrained by my parent’s guidelines and restrictions. As a young girl there was always a special tension around clothes shopping/selections. One of my early memories was having a conflict with my parents over a dress they were wanting to buy for me to wear in a photo with my newly born little brother. I argued it looked like a tablecloth. And years down the road I actually DID see a tablecloth with the very same fabric. It felt like a wink from God and a nod of vindication.

As strong-willed as I was, I did obey, I forget the terms of the arrangement, perhaps spanking was referenced as a consequence. I don’t recall the specifics from this incident. But they bought the dress and I wore the dress. It was probably particularly difficult for my parents to have limited funds and be buying something new for me and then experiencing my vehement displeasure instead of gratitude. And I can only imagine the joy and expectation they must have had initially in getting to dress a little girl after having had three boys only to be met by resistance.

I have always been admittedly myself. When I was nine my mother reached the end of her patience in purchasing clothes for me and as I had picked up some chores from my older brothers I had a little income. My parents still provided some budget for winter coats as needed and Easter dresses etc. but for the most part my wardrobe was on me. Their modesty parameters still applied, but I was given the freedom to select within those confines. When I was twelve I took the babysitting CPR certification class at a local hospital and began a new career chapter of childcare that carried me in many ways all the way into my adult career.

When I was growing up I was sure I wanted to pursue a career in fashion. I sewed many of my own clothes and thrifted most of the rest. I’ll admit, a lot of this was due to my financial constraints. Value Village, Goodwill, St. Vincent De Paul were my Hollister, Abercrombie & American Eagle. If I would have had more cash flow I likely would not have dressed the way I did, but I didn’t feel embarrassment as I knew my style was distinctive and all my own. And by not dressing “on trend” which was firmly outside of modesty parameters, I wasn’t missing the mark by modifying to try to fit in. I was just doing my own thing.

I didn’t fit in already jumping into public school at fourteen after being home schooled. I don’t think anyone knew how to categorize me. In my student leadership class we read a book, Stargirl. A book about a formerly homeschooled girl who comes to a high school and doesn’t play by the “rules.” I can still vividly remember Sra. St. Hilaire reading aloud excerpts of this book. The story provided me such comfort. It was the closest to feeling seen I recall feeling in high school. I don’t think anyone thought of me as such an outsider. But inside I knew I was a Stargirl. Fighting the tension to “fit in” and be cool/popular/accepted.

In hindsight I suppose I was adequately well-known at my high school of circa 2,000 students. But I had a very stoic sensibility those years. I knew I would leave. I knew I was there, then. I didn’t want to wish away the years, so I did many of the normative things. And I also did very bizarre things in private/on the side. My double life really commencing at sixteen when I started attending the local community college around my high school classes. I took english, history, science etc. at college and choir, ceramics, sewing independent study (made this a thing), student leadership etc. at high school. On average I was enrolled in 11 classes a semester. And I also started working different jobs in the midst of all of those classes.

I worked at a vintage/thrift clothes store - I even found a dress that had absolutely been handmade by some design student in Seattle and wore it to a high school winter formal my Junior year.

My senior year of high school I was helping a local woman with various vintage clothing shows and endeavors. At a bridal convention I emceed a vintage bridal fashion show and afterwards a man came up to me and asked if I could sew and if I had my own sewing machine.

The last few months of high school I spent my weekends down in Walla Walla. I helped him with retail in his boutique downtown and in the evenings we’d descend into his basement studio and I would help him sew samples for his women’s ready-to-wear line. In hindsight, it’s pretty crazy my conservative Christian parents let me stay with a gay couple when I was 17. They knew I’d been eyeing a grad program at London College of Fashion, having always been a bit of an anglophile, and I guess this was a way less wild leap.

I remember having to tell Giancarlo (the fashion designer in Walla Walla) that I’d have to miss a weekend. He asked why and I informed him I had a commencement ceremony. “Oh, you’re graduating from college?” “No, high school, college graduation is next year.” I remember seeing understanding register on his face and we never talked about how young I was ever again. Over the summer I stayed in Walla Walla full-time, turned 18, and my brother in New York City suggested I try NYC for a year before moving to London.

By the fall I’d finished the hours I’d managed to get college credit for my “internship” in fashion design and I started working at Starbucks so as to have a job as soon as I landed in New York City. At 18 I graduated from community college with my Associates
Degree in Visual Arts, with intents on becoming a fashion stylist and on my 19th birthday left home and moved to NYC.

It’s still kind of funny to me how I seemingly forgot somewhere along the way that I moved to NYC for fashion styling. In looking in my old emails for a photo to add to this piece I saw the essay I’d written for a scholarship application where I cite my aspirations: “I have considered becoming a stylist, one who helps adjust models for the camera, or who prepares products to be photographed.” I wrote that when I was seventeen.

One day in early 2021 I was styling a Billy Reid photo shoot in Williamsburg and prepping the samples the day before just chilling with the photographer in his studio and I realized that I was actually doing exactly what I had thought I’d be doing when I moved to NYC. I’d completely truly forgotten.

Okay okay, walk down memory lane is over. I wanted to give a deep dive into my relationship with fashion to couch my current quandaries with modesty. Lately I’ve been wondering if my initial drive to fashion design was to answer my own longing for beautiful but parent-approved clothes. I guess I may never know the answer to that. But I do know, that clothing has always been a particular vector of enjoyment for me. It’s the information you’re giving to people you come in contact with. It’s also your own personal mantra to your self for the day. What you wear matters.

What you put in your body impacts you, but my strong take is that what you put on your body also impacts you. Beyond the fiber/frequency rabbit hole that I will currently avoid, I know there are a lot of people out there who truly don’t care about fashion. And I hear that. But I also would debate anyone that a well-fitting suit, or a gorgeous dress in a color that particularly suits you makes a difference in your mood.

But beyond mood/confidence, I think the clothing you wear is truly saying a message. The message could be, “I prioritize comfort above all else and do not care much about trends.” The message could be “my identity is fully wrapped up in how cool/successful people perceive me to be.” I could go on but I want to underscore that whether or not you wrote the message with intention, your outward appearance is communicating both to yourself and others. I will cede that the message to yourself seems subtle, but I think most can agree the mood shift after a shower/shave/hair wash and a sharp/lovely outfit after being in old/work/dirty clothes.

Now to delve into the history of the virtue of modesty as I think there is an implicit communal component to be outlined. I am coming to believe that modesty is intrinsically expressed in relationship with other people. And modesty isn’t just a matter of how much cleavage is showing. Modesty is:

MODESTY. The virtue that moderates all the internal and external movements and appearance of a person according to his or her endowments, possessions, and station in life.

So to give modesty a bit of a reprieve from shame-based purity-culture movements, I think the real way to think about modesty is humility. I know pride has been receiving a lot of use and rebrand as a positive but I think confidence and pride are two very different modes. I esteem to be confident and would never like to be described by someone as proud.

When thinking about the virtue of modesty in clothing it seems there is a much higher call than to just merely cover up. If you were born with long luscious hair, how do you showcase that natural beauty well? If you let your financial limitations dictate your dress and instead you settle for ill-fitting/un-flattering clothes you’re not being modest.

True modesty is probably impossible without a posture of gratitude. But from there, there are countless ways to be modest. I don’t personally find a lot of traditional women necessarily inspiring in the beauty department. It’s as if there’s a little under-the-surface asceticism. I think the more you are grounded in who you are and grateful for your life there is a natural bent towards modesty. There’s so much freedom in how you want to dress yourself but without leaning into creativity you very well may find yourself in a rut.

Modesty is about intention. Humans are relational beings. I’m in NO way saying wearing a revealing dress inherently communicates low-standards or self-esteem, but when in public there is a fundamental lack of control on how you will be perceived in what you decided to clothe yourself with. I’m not trying to perpetuate the whole “she was asking for it” line of thinking. But I do think there is agency on both parties. A women should know the power that her body may have on men. Men should restrain themselves.

I don’t love the seeming imbalance of all the responsibility being on women to cover their bodies so as to not tempt men. I think it’s a shame to cover up all of the beauty God created. But I also think there are levels best for public consumption. How you present yourself is the first impression people will glean. I’ve spent many many years trying to keep the attention on my resume and capabilities in the workplace and that means making sure I’m not leading with my figure as my main endorsement. Ultimately, feminine agency is to wield your beauty as a powerful tool for good. I give away smiles freely, but I’ve found that I feel more comfortable leaving some portion of my body out of the conversation.

I’m probably still not abiding by my parent’s modesty guidelines but the thing I’ve found in dressing more feminine that makes me want to continue is the way I can tell my guy friends appreciate it. That may seem silly to say, but I’ve also been on dates when I realize they’re distracted. I feel a little bad. I wore this to attract them/show them my beauty, but the weird side effect is wondering how distracted they are/are they listening. It’s like I’m testing their resolve. Why would I want to do that?

If I look lovely, but not disarmingly attractive men are much easier to engage in thoughtful conversation. It’s being a loving sister. And then behind closed doors there’s plenty of time to be overwhelmingly sexy. Why would I want to date a man who wants other men to see my body? I don’t see it as jealousy but rather as a desire to protect me. There is a large margin of self-expression between dowdy and seductive and I’ve found it’s pretty gosh darn comfortable and empowering, too!

As I’ve shared a little, I have a long personal history with modesty. Both my resentment and then eventual embrace. But through my own journey to adopt modesty on my own terms I learned that modesty is not just the physical state of the coverings of the body, it’s the mentality and mindset behind. It’s not a boundary that restricts freedom, it actually provides a larger range of unique to you self-expression. I hope more women choose to showcase their unique beauty and remember that every outfit communicates a message to yourself as well as others. If you can manage to extract the shame/control narrative from modesty I think you too may find it’s an amazing opportunity for expression of your feminine agency.